


Nightwatch

by GloriaVictoria



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Widomauk, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It's Gay If You Want It To Be, M/M, Other, Past Character Death, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 16:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19834327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaVictoria/pseuds/GloriaVictoria
Summary: Caduceus helps Caleb to deal with the death of his friend, and finds Caleb's armor hard to penetrate. Perhaps a cup of tea will help. !!! This fic has spoilers for Ep. 26+ of Critical Role !!!





	Nightwatch

Another night's watch crept upon the Mighty Nein, as it did each day they spent on the road. Under the moon, a pair of figures sit around a gently flickering campfire, the sparks illuminating their faces. Periodically, one of them leans forward, stoking the flames and adjusting a small pot hanging just above, while the other simply stares out into the night. Behind them, the rest of their party sleeps peacefully, the silence of the evening broken only by the occasional pop of the fire, the rustling of trees. One would not think that only a short time ago, they had spent their days in fear, the specter of a bloodied glaive hovering over their heads.

The taller figure, face framed by gently curling hair the color of cabbage roses, stirs the round pot bubbling on the fire before using his long staff to lift it toward him. Wordlessly, he shifts and pulls a pair of cups, well-worn and chipped, from his pack. His eyes glow with warmth in the firelight as he turns to face his companion.

"Tea?" He asks simply, his lips curling upward into an inviting smile. His companion does not respond at first; this solemn man floats on his own, like a leaf spinning lazily on a lake, motionless and confused. "Mr. Caleb?" Finally, he responds, nodding wordlessly and using the back of his fingerless glove to swipe at his nose. "Is it normal for you all to perform your watch like this?"

"Like what?" Caleb asks, his voice muffled by the thick scarf around his neck.

"Oh, I don't know." He muses whimsically, carefully pouring the tea into each cup. The liquid is a strange greenish-brown hue, and for a moment, an expression of regret flickers across Caleb's face. "Like you're waiting for a hammer to drop?"

"Well, Mr. Clay, considering our recent luck with night watches, I'm sure you can understand my..." Caleb pauses, the corners of his mouth twitching. "I'm not much of a conversationalist."

"Mm. Yeah. I get that, I do." Caduceus lets out a low, resonant hum and scoots closer to Caleb, reaching over the remaining distance to hand him his cup. Caleb takes it, bringing it up to his nose and sniffing.

"Interesting, ah... aroma." The wizard turns the cup in his hands a few times, and if Caduceus can tell he is stalling, he graciously says nothing. Caduceus, on the other hand, sighs deeply and leans back, taking a slow, deliberate sip of his own tea.

"Isn't it? I just love it." Another sip, and Caduceus casts his eyes toward Caleb again. Caduceus notes that Caleb has beautiful eyes, like a clear sky peeking past fall leaves, clouded by a mist of pain that even his sharp intuition cannot yet penetrate. "Gotta say, Mr. Caleb. I'm enjoying your company, you and your friends. I've got a good feeling about things, really."

"That's lovely." Caleb replies shortly, finally bringing the cup to his lips. He blinks, surprised by the taste -- somewhere between sweet and sour, with a heady bitter aftertaste that Caleb found unappealing. He takes another sip anyway, and Caduceus' smile widens.

The two slip into another silence. Caduceus watches as Caleb continues to carefully sip the steaming tea, sometimes meeting his gaze with a quizzical expression.

"Can I help you?" Caleb finally blurts out, louder than he'd have liked, and Caduceus shakes his head.

"Sorry, you're just interesting. I'm trying to get to know you." Caleb's brows furrow.

"Typically, one does not 'get to know people' by staring."

"Typically, yeah." Caduceus replies with a soft chuckle. "Would you rather talk? I'm a good listener and, uh... I'd rather have a conversation with you than those trees. It's less exciting than you'd think, talking to plants."

"What makes you think I want to talk?" Caleb asks, his face buried in the cup as he takes one last drink, emptying it of the strange tea Caduceus had served him. Despite his misgivings, he feels the tension in his body loosen, his shoulders droop, and his jaw unclenches. Whatever he'd stewed in that pot, it did more than put a funny taste in his mouth. "...Sorry."

"It's okay. It can be hard sometimes. You've had it rough, huh?" Caduceus moves to face Caleb, and instinctively, Caleb turns his head away. Caduceus can't help but be reminded of a dog, kicked one too many times. "It's really alright. You don't have to do that."

"I've just -- it's just been -- " Caleb pauses for a moment, his mouth working around his words. ”It's been a busy few days." Caduceus nods knowingly.

"Yeah, wow. No kidding." He pushes his bright pink hair away from his face, and Caleb thinks of spun sugar in an elderly woman's hand, of fireworks and laughter. It's an unfamiliar memory, one that he thought had burnt up with all the rest. "How did you become the leader of this merry band?" Caduceus asks in a tone Caleb recognizes is meant to sound absent, but those eyes never leave him.

"Are you trying to analyze me?" He replies, pulling the collar of his coat up with his free hand.

"Well... I can't say I'm trying. You gotta understand, Mr. Caleb, it just happens. After so many years of my profession, it's... well, it's honestly automatic."

"I don't appreciate it." Caleb sniffs, rubbing the rim of the cup with his thumb. Caduceus notes the dirt around his fingernails, the angry hangnails and torn skin. He notes the taut bandages coming just up to the wrists, the way his fingers twitch ever-so-slightly as he speaks.

"I'm sorry. I know it's probably unnerving." Caduceus pours himself some more tea and holds up the pot to Caleb. "You want more? There's plenty."

"Ehm, sure." Caleb shrugs and hands him the cup. For a moment, his fingers touch Caduceus' large, grey hand, and they're impossibly warm. _From the tea, you dolt._ He thinks to himself, but then he's never been so close to a firbolg as this. He briefly entertains the thought that they're like teddy bears, soft and safe. Ja _, except teddy bears don't drink dead people tea._ He almost says this aloud, but sinks his teeth into his lip to stop himself.

"Mr. Caleb, I've been meaning to tell you that I'm sorry about your friend. Mollymauk, right?"

"You've already said that. Multiple times." Caleb answers flatly, staring pointedly out into the dark.

"Yeah, but I haven't said it to you." Caduceus says matter-of-factly, and he wants to reach out and put a hand on Caleb, who has begun to gently shiver.

"You know, we didn't bring you along for your therapy services." Caleb snaps, his hair barely concealing the wild look in his eyes. "So maybe... cut it out, _ja_?"

Another silence. Caduceus continues to watch Caleb out of the corner of his eye, and Caleb continues to avoid his gaze, watching a pair of moths dance dangerously close to their fire. Despite his gentle nagging, Caduceus doesn't expect Caleb to speak. He knows trauma when he sees it, and yet he can't stop himself from trying. A little voice of intuition speaks to him, _Be patient, Clay. He'll come to it._

"You know, whatever happened back there, whatever circumstances caused his death--"

"No." Caleb cuts him off, raising his hand.

"It’s not--"  
  
" _Stop."_ Caleb hisses. "Stop it _now_ , do you hear me?" Caleb's whole body tenses, and Caduceus wonders for a split second if he might bolt into the trees. “Circumstances?" He barks a strangled laugh. "That bastard nearly _bisected_ him, _those_ were the circumstances.” 

"Why? Why hold it all in?" Caduceus asks, cradling his teacup in his hands. "Don't you know it's tearing you apart?" Caduceus expects Caleb to explode, but instead, he simply shakes his head.

"There's no point in dredging things up. We need to move forward."

"This only happened a couple weeks ago, Mr. Caleb. If you want to talk about it, I won't judge you. Death is difficult to understand."

"Is it?" Caleb rearranges his scarf as he speaks; it seems to Caduceus like he can't go without fidgeting with something for more than a minute. "I understand more about death than you give me credit for."

"Then tell me." Caduceus smiles gently, extending his palm in welcoming. "Come on. What have you got to lose?"

"My patience, for one." Caleb snipped, feeling guilty almost immediately for his tone. _Why should I be, when he's intruding into my business?_ Perhaps it was the boldness of Caduceus' manner, the unshielded concern in his face. It disarmed Caleb and made his stomach twist into knots. He'd known this man for less than a fortnight. How had he so easily made him feel so... vulnerable?

"I'm sorry, it's really not my intention to annoy you. I'm just trying to help. You look really uncomfortable."

"I _am_ uncomfortable." Caleb pauses, plucking a loose twig from the ground and scratching at the dirt. For a long while, Caduceus watches Caleb draw runes and figures into the loose dirt, scraping one away only to produce another. A soft crack interrupts the stillness; a Zemnian curse, and the broken stick is discarded, thrown into the grass. Caleb grows terribly still, and Caduceus waits. He waits until finally, Caleb heaves a shuddering sigh, then mutters so quietly Caduceus almost misses his words.

"It was my fault."

Caduceus doesn't bother asking for clarification; instead, he scoots even closer to Caleb, placing his hand on his back. He can feel Caleb holding his breath, spasms wracking his ribcage, revolting against Caleb's efforts to kill the sob threatening to escape his lungs.

"You know it wasn't." Caduceus answers, and Caleb scoffs, wiping his cheek on the back of his gloved hand.

"You don't know what happened. I could have... we could have just gone our separate ways and he would be alive, happy, laughing again--"

"And three of your friends would have died or worse." Caduceus cuts him off, and Caleb glares. He glares with as much venom as he can muster, because this stranger -- how dare he? As if he could read his mind, as if he had _any_ idea...

"He didn't deserve to die in the dirt. Like a dog. Not him." Caleb spits, the corners of his mouth gently twitching.

"No, he didn't. But you know what? You didn't deserve to have to make the choices you had to make. None of you did. That's the thing about life and death, you know? Things happen, whether you deserve them or not, and we gotta accept them."  
  
"I do not accept this. I do not accept that this couldn't have gone some other way. If I had--"

"If you had done things differently, it could have turned out the same." This silenced Caleb for a moment, long enough for Caduceus to continue. "You don't know. There's a thousand possible ways it could have gone down, Caleb. You chose...to be brave."

"I'm not brave." Caleb quickly snapped back, clutching his knees.

"You are." The certainty in Caduceus' voice made Caleb angry, viciously so, and yet he could not bring himself to speak the cruel words that bubbled on his tongue. Instead, he turned away, and the fire of his indignation burnt out as quickly as it had flared.

"Please just leave me alone." He murmurs, defeated. Caduceus sighs, removes his hand from Caleb's back, and returns to his place by the fire. The watch dragged on, and Caleb wished dearly he could return to his place by their wagon, curl up, and vanish. The moon slowly rose higher and higher into the air, and eventually the chirping of frogs gave way to the song of mourning doves and the gentle whisper of the wind through tree branches.

Finally, their watch ended. Caduceus rose to his feet, gathered his tea kettle and cups, and wrapped them in a cloth before placing them in his bag. He turned his gaze again to Caleb, who had not yet moved.

"...You're allowed to be brave, Caleb. Even when you're scared." He murmured just as Jester rose, yawning loudly and straightening her bodice. Before Caleb could respond, Caduceus had gone, leaving him with a growing lump in his throat, tight and throbbing. He loosened his scarf, settling beside the wagon, sleep eluding him until at last, he could not hold himself upright any longer. For once, he did not dream of anything, save for the warmth of firelight in violet eyes.


End file.
